


Harmony

by Nyanoka



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Male My Unit | Kris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyanoka/pseuds/Nyanoka
Summary: Silence is golden as they say. Originally written in 2017.
Relationships: Marth/My Unit | Kris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> I do not remember what inspired this one, but I am currently in the process of cleaning my hard drive (or at the very least, renaming and sorting). I'm missing a lot of my old unpublished works, so it is a bit of shame. They're not quite lost but more misplaced. Un'betaed.

The silence, soft and violent, pervaded the prince’s room. He, one of the room’s two current occupants, had never enjoyed the quiet. Silence had always been a sort of ethereal, strange thing, something that existed but always at the corners, never the forefront.

Even when he, Marth, was a child, there was always noise. Whether it was the servants or his parents or even from the faint bustling of the outside world, noise was a constant. During war, the silence could never persist. The makeshift camps always hurried with activity, and during those crude, distasteful battles, the clanging of metal and shouts of pain assaulted his hearing.

Even if it had not, the beating of his heart, enthused by adrenaline and fear, drowned out everything.

He almost felt guilty really. He disliked death; he truly did, but the hush terrified him. Elice, his sister, would have called him childish if she knew. How could quietness terrify a man who had faced down the worst of the world’s demons? He’d argue that there was a tranquility, unnatural and perverse, that existed in those moments, akin to death.

He liked noise; it reminded him that he lived, that others lived. Quietness meant death, and he could not stand that, the chilling of flesh and the stillness of the heart. Sound, at least, meant that there was a chance for life.

He had never quite been good at conversation, or even simple rhythmic tapping. The prince had always depended on others for sound. During his youth, it had been Merric’s chattering or Elice’s sharp, scathing wit, never him. Marth, by himself, was ironically a quiet child.

His partner was no better. When they had first met, the other man had been brief, courteous but still soft-spoken. At the time, Marth had written it off as nervousness or even respect, but really, it was just the other man’s personality.

Kris was efficient, terrifyingly so. It was in his actions, in his words; never too much, never too little. The knight seemed to know exactly how much was necessary to get his point across. During the war, it had been a blessing. Chris had known exactly how to act, how to move. Even Katarina, the platoon’s official tactician, couldn’t match his prowess when it came to tactical maneuvers. He was identical to the hush itself: quick, pervasive, knowing, brutal.

Marth couldn’t blame the other man really. There was a comfort in quietness (or so he assumed from his sister’s descriptions). It was impossible to hurt when nothing happened. But, for the prince, that was the problem.

Without words, it was impossible to know if a person lived, existed.

He gave a soft sigh and then heard a chair slide out behind him, then footsteps. After a few moments, a calloused, ungloved hand wrapped around his own and a weight pressed against his back; the soft, warm breaths tickling his neck. The other arm wrapped around his midriff loosely.

Leaning back, a small smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t expect the other man to change entirely for him, but what they had was enough.


End file.
